Pasta Man watches me drink some water and then crumples up his face at me, pulling his face back into his shaking head, saying “No, no, no, you gotta chew the chardonnay like a dog, baby.” I say “Shit Pasta you’re right,” then I take another gulp and make sure to chew my water.

It’s summer time, but I’m down in the red like a peasant. I say ‘Wouldn’t you like some more wine’ to myself and drink straight out of the bottle. I look in the mirror hanging on the wall and my eyes are slits barely opened. I could have been born an avalanche but I am just a person with shaky hands.